Sometimes love resists fate;
The new boy on the adjacent aisle,
Sits on a distant far off isle,
Too far to swim.

Joint studies converge eager minds,
Poring over school essays,
May not help cupid’s assays,
To prevail, this time.

Living in college,
Above and downstairs,
Yet blankness still stares,
Between them,

Till alone,
Both well read,
Sink a bottle of red,
And love ripens.

On the eve of Valentine’s Day,
As passion heavily weighs,
He suggested a parting of ways,
To see his mother.

Chantelle- (Composed for the Dome Limericks charity initiative)

Chantelle was a talented stripper
Whose fine act strained many a zipper
But she experienced hassle
With flying loose tassles
Though gents continued to tip her.

Ethel Austin Northfield High Street

Ethel sat wrapped in a coat
That was too warm for a spring day
Gazing at passers- by, who afforded her
Not a second glance, she made to speak
But retained a dignified silence

The windows bared all, but showed nothing
Something off everything they silently screamed,
But off what? There was no sign
Pastel colours hung in symmetry half seen
Suspended in disembodied mystery

Some stopped for a chat, but didn’t stay long
She had seen it all before, there was so little new
But it was nice to say hello, all the same
At rest, her shoes reflected the morning sun shine
Her skirt sat neatly pressed

Assistants scurried occasionally back and forth
Pushing full rails in rearrangement of the sales
Those drawn through expectant open doors, edged in at first ,
Moving as random balls in a pinball machine
But leaving with empty bags
And unopened purses

It was being there that mattered
Familiar faces in unfamiliar times
And she had sat in that place for many years
Weathering the uncertain seasons
Defiant every day, with adversity
Thwarted by freshly applied lipstick

The afternoon rush ebbed slowly
Young girls in leggings, young women in jeggings passed
Too busy to stop, even from casual curiosity
To consider pristine wares
As the manageress appeared to sweep
The swept doorway once more

And so we can no longer see facts , on ceefax
Its phonetic simplicity
Consumed by 3g technology
At least it held out longer than teletext
On which I enjoyed being Bamboozled.

Pages
Scrolled
And
Refreshed
With an aloof insouciance

Updating the latest scores when it felt like it,
Not when we needed to know.
It always did take its time
Instead of 3millionpixels
It had three colours, blue, yellow
And white ,to show,
Against a black background.

It was with considerable consternation
That I heard this word in an oration
Beloved of learned Latin scholars
And other assorted culture wallahs
It should not be dismissed as arcane ,absurd
It is the longest non technical word
In the English language

Created by schoolboys for a bit o’ fun
That’s what you do when you’re at Eton
A floccus is, but the merest of wisps
Naucum a trifle in grammatical twist
All should know of nihilists
Pilus ? nothing but a hair for trichologists

I don’t give a facio denotes ennui
Put it all together and you’ll see
The Latin etymology
For my sneaking admiration, for
Floccinaucinihilipilification

But what does it all mean, obscure and obtuse?
A word which some say is of very little use
And there’s the rub ,for knowing mirth,
For it is an estimation of very little worth

Shades

Cream not off white
For a day full of shades
Emotional hues
Memories line sketched,
Laced together, held knuckle tight
Images which tether
Bridesmaids in aquamarine blur
Mother in coral pink and blush
One stroke in cloying oil
Behind delicate voile
Betrayed the pentimento in her smile

Grandparent’s reminiscence through sepia tint
A photograph awash with pastels and prints
A flash which was too bright
Which only served to obscure her sight
The carriage drawn by a handsome gray
The canvas of her wedding day